Page 7 of The Inevitable Us

We’re all here waiting for the signal to go in, the moment we give up hope that Rosalie is coming out on her own. The older Coleman siblings are all away at school out of state, but Rory and both her parents are waiting in the parking lot nervously. Every available person we’ve been able to gather on such short notice is here. Every employee of the Colemans, down to the housekeeper, the bodyguards, and family friends, are gathered anxiously waiting to begin our search. Former Army medics, my uncle Brody (who’s also a bodyguard for the Coleman family) and I gathered all the supplies we’ll need to bring Rosalie out of the woods if we find her injured.

“Why can’t we go in after her now?” Rory demands. “You know she’s too responsible to worry us like this. What if she’s hurt?”

“We have to give her time to come out on her own,” Tessa reminds him again, her eyes welling up with tears. “People get hurt in the woods in the dark. It’s best not to send people in when they can be easily hurt if we don’t have to.”

We all know where we’re supposed to be and where to search. Tessa’s set up at a picnic bench, her bloodshot eyes evident from here. She’s going to wait by the car in the hopes that Rosalie comes back on her own. My uncle Brody is going to wait with her while the rest of us search so that he can be at home base if she comes back on her own injured.

The first hint of dusk fills the sky when Ethan turns his back away from the path we know Rosalie went in. His face is stony, his jaw clenched, his face ghostly pale. “Everybody knows where they’re supposed to be?” his voice barks out in a commanding tone that cracks.

Rosalie’s itinerary had been given to me this morning, and another copy was under her driver’s seat, but while we were using it as a starting point, we weren’t counting on that being one hundred percent accurate. She could have accidentally veered off, or decided to change her path for some reason.

“I need you to show me the spot you took the kids camping,” Creekman, Ethan’s head of security, says gently to Ethan. “She may have decided to find her way back there.”

There’s a massive tree that fell ages ago near the camping site, the roots exposed. Many hikers seek out the tree just to take pictures next to it. She may have tried to find it again as well.

Ethan gives a curt nod. “Let’s get started.”

I follow the scent dogs with my friend. We each travel down the only path that leads into the woods, separating at the first fork. I go with one pack of scent dogs, Ethan and Rory with the other.

The remainder of the men we’ve gathered follow the grid they’ve been given to search, going slowly inch by inch, searching for any sign of Rosalie.

As we follow the dogs deeper and deeper into the woods, I think of Rosalie. Last night she was cuddling into my hoodie like it was my arms. Even upset with the situation, I’d wanted to wrap my arms around her. We’ve always had this draw to one another. I felt it from the moment she was born. I just want her to be happy, safe. And right now, Rosalie is not safe.

Only Josie and Nate are ever recognized away from Ethan. Josie because of her biological father, and the paparazzi’s made up drama these last twenty-two years. Nate due to his college football career, and additional publicity he receives since he’s Ethan’s son.

Rory and Rosalie go undetected, living a relatively normal day-to-day life. But still, there are threats. We’ve always worried about kidnapping attempts. We’ve caught more than a few people trying to break into the Coleman home. But now Rosalie is just out there….somewhere. Not using the emergency equipment I double-checked before she left.

A thousand missed moments go through my head as we search. What if someone followed her from the house and into the woods? We get threats daily, despite the fact Ethan’s long since left the spotlight. What if she’s lost to us for good? What if I never know what it’s like to bury my nose in her hair while I sleep, to know a secret smile is just for me, to draw her to me and kiss her lips when she sasses.

Once it’s dark in the woods, we turn our flashlights on to light up the area in front of us. A lone dog, a young adult, smaller than the others, stops, directing us east. The other dogs are leading us north. My skin prickles, watching the younger dog barking, directing us away from the others. Their handler, Ezra, shakes his head. “That’s Ranger. He has a lot of potential, but he gets distracted easily by the smell of food. Especially cheese, huh boy?”

I feel my body freeze with awareness. There’s just something about the dog’s proud stature and self-pleased smile. “Why don’t we go check the clearing ahead just in case? It can’t hurt anything.”

We walk on the path shadowed by the full moon while the dogs sniff excitedly. The smell of damp moss fills my nostrils as I walk further with Ranger down the path, calling for Rosalie; the only other sounds are the crunch of dried leaves and needles.

“Sawyer?” a weak voice calls from the darkness. The German shepherd runs ahead and we follow hurriedly, finding him again as he stands next to Rosalie, a proud look on his face shining in the flashlight.

She’s lying down, her foot seemingly trapped inside of a hole. “Are you hurt badly, or is it just stuck?” I ask as I take off my backpack.

“I can’t use it at all,” she says in a pained voice.

Sitting on the ground, I gather Rosalie into my arms, careful not to jostle her ankle. I need to look at it before we pull it free. My Baby Girl, I allow myself to think for the first time. I rub my hands through her hair and whisper softly to her. “I have to let the others know I found you. Rosalie, why didn’t you use your radio or your phone?”

Her body goes limp in my arms, and she turns to bury her face. “It’s with my backpack. I took it off to use the bathroom and stepped in a hole.”

My friend Ezra makes his way into the clearing with the rest of the dogs. Taking in the scene before him, he reaches for his radio. “Hello, base, I’ve found her at coordinates 36.0631° N, 86.8096° W. Bring a stretcher. She’s fine, just a sprain or break. She’ll need help getting out of the woods.”

I grab her pack to find the ace bandage I’d thought to pack earlier in the day and an instant ice pack. When I stumble across the vacuum-sealed jerky and cheese the dog scented, I unwrap it and toss it to him, his prize for finding what the other dogs hadn’t.

Leaning back down to her, I say gently, “Let’s work your ankle out of here, why don’t we?” After checking the rest of her body, I free her ankle, and wrap it with the bandage for support. It’s badly bruised and swollen. I think it’s just a bad sprain, but she will be off it for a while. Gathering her into my arms, I follow Ezra and the dogs out of the clearing.

In the dark of the dense woods, where only Rosalie and I will ever know, I lean down and kiss her forehead while she’s in my arms. I feel her body tense in surprise, and her breath catches.

“You gave us quite a scare,” I’m able to eke out. “We thought you’d been stolen by a hobgoblin in the woods.”

“A hobgoblin? What even is that?” she laughs before wincing a little in pain.

It hurts my heart to see her hurting like this.

---